


Forsaken (sequel to Scarred; The Siren's Song)

by writingcreature



Series: The-Aftermath-Series [11]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Avenging Joe's death, Banter, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cybercrimes, Episode Coda for Episode 9.11, Episode fix it, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Hacking, Injury Recovery, M/M, Male Friendship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-06 00:38:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingcreature/pseuds/writingcreature
Summary: This is not just a fix it for episode 9.11 but also the sequel to my other story Scarred; The Siren's Song that dealt with the aftermath of Joe's death. The plot inherits canon divergence as Catherine Rollins is not part in any of this but other characters are added and the storyline, in general, differs the show.“Isn’t it cute how these two finish each other's sentences?” Danny gave them a broad grin.“Well, let’s say I’ve learned from the best,” Harry retorted and raised his bottle as if to toast him.“Touché!” Danny said and winked at Harry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Scarred; The Siren's Song (episode coda for 9.10)

It had been about six weeks now since Steve had buried Joe and Cole under the giant Ponderosa Pine. Meanwhile, he'd been fixing the house as best as he could; he had contacted the guy from the local scrapyard and paid him good money to tow the wrecks away and keep his mouth shut. Within these six weeks, not much was left that reminded him of the horrible shootout with Hassan's goons. He has been in loose contact with his team in Hawaii. Steve had no idea how, but Danny had managed to get some more leverage from the governor concerning the ongoing hunt for Hassan under the premises that Five-0 was also doing their job of keeping the streets of Hawaii safe. Therefore, Danny had contacted Duke. With one man down, so to speak, and the rest of the team was working overtime to find out as much as they could about Hassan's and Greer's whereabouts; they needed all the help they could get. Adam had returned from California with a lead on Greer, but working with the CIA felt like an egg dance during an earthquake. 

Jerry tried his best to hack into their database, but even he had his limits, and so they reached out to Harley, who was more than happy to hack the agency. His knowledge about the dark web paid out when the team leaked the news about Steve's death, with a little help from the German hitman, Kasper Bauer who was still in custody. Hassan was going back to his daily routine like selling weapons or human trafficking and managing the legal businesses that covered all these operations. The motto, "Follow the money," gave Steve and the team increasing insight on how Hassan's organization was working and with whom. They found out that the guy who did Hassan's errands went by the name of Dimitri. But that's all they got. This man was a pro, a ghost. Even Harley couldn't find anything about him. Nevertheless, this guy was their first solid lead. 

So far, things were going according to plan although it felt like walking through molasses, and the less Steve had to do, the longer his days got. How many more times could he clean the weapons or check the perimeters or visit Joe's and Cole's graves? He'd built himself a primitive gym in the barn. Working out helped him clear his mind. 

Meanwhile, he'd grown a beard, and with a pair of shades and a baseball cap, he barely recognized himself when he looked at the mirror. The disguise allowed him to go to town to buy some groceries and other stuff. He'd run out of MREs. Other than that, Steve avoided any social contacts. He once met Joe's neighbors, the one he'd sent away. He'd told them that Joe was visiting someone abroad and hoped they didn't ask more questions. At least they didn't say a word about the house that looked a bit different from when they had seen it the last time. One day, when he got up early in the morning for his daily training, he found a casserole with stew on the porch. Liz, the neighbor's wife, had left it there for him together with a little note that he was welcomed in their home at any time. Would they still be as friendly when they found out that it was him who caused Joe's death? 

Yes, this thought followed Steve even in his dreams. He knew the symptoms all too well, re-experiencing the trauma through intrusive, distressing recollections of the event, flashbacks, and nightmares. He had emotional numbness and avoided places, people, and activities. He had increased arousal such as difficulty sleeping and concentrating, feeling jumpy, and being easily irritated and angered. He suffered from PTSD. Steve could tell himself to get a grip on it a thousand times, but it wouldn't change a thing. He took a look at the clock on the mantle. He'd bought it and some other stuff at a flea market. Danny wouldn't call him until 7:00 a.m. Steve had some time to kill. He decided to work on the porch's banister. He was on his way to the shed to grab some tools when he heard a car approaching. Immediately, he ran back to the house to get his gun. A minute later, he was looking for cover behind a trough. His pulse was in his throat, the blood rushed in his ears, and he hoped that the driver just took a wrong turn and was driving away soon. Steve was wrong. The car stopped. The engine cut out. A car door slammed shut. Carefully, Steve lifted his head to peak over the rim of the trough. He had no idea what he'd expected to see. However, it was definitely not the familiar face of his partner, his friend, Danny. 

"Hey," Steve hollered out and came out of his cover. 

Danny gave his partner a quick once-over. "Hay is, uh, for the horses," he stated dryly and took a look around. "Nice place here, so, so rural." Danny's eyes darted back to Steve, "You accommodated yourself pretty well, you know, with the beard and the boots…" 

"You didn't need to come out here," Steve cut him short. 

"I know, but I did. Because that's what family does." 

"That's, uh, that's some real wisdom, Danny," Steve muttered. 

"Well, I g-- I got that from you, you know? When my brother died, you wouldn't leave me alone — big pain in the ass. Well, that's why I came here. I realized that this would probably be my only chance for payback." 

Steve swallowed, overwhelmed by his emotions, he tried hard not to lose it. But he was so done fighting that he merely followed his instinct and pulled Danny into a hug. 

"I'm so glad to see you," Steve said hoarsely, "You have no idea how glad I am." He didn't want to let go of his friend. The warmth of Danny's body seeped through Steve's shirt, enveloped him and made him feel safe and at home. For the first time in weeks, he felt complete. 

Danny patted Steve's back. The way his friend clung to him spoke volumes. 

"It's okay, Steve. It's okay. As much as I love this hugfest and the way you are welcoming me… You need a shower," Danny blurted out. 

Steve let go of him immediately, "Oh, of course, sorry, I forgot." 

Danny gave him a smile in return, "No need to apologize, it's just…" 

Steve sniffed at his shirt, grimaced, and then nodded, "Yeah, I can see where that comes from; let's go, come on." 

Danny followed him inside the house, but not without recognizing the efforts Steve had taken to repair the damage that had been caused by the gunfire of Hassan's goons. In some places, the shotgun residue was still visible. He didn't want to imagine what went down in here and how lucky Steve had been that he'd come out of it, alive. 

"The kitchen is over there. Help yourself if you are hungry or thirsty while I have a quick shower," Steve said. His voice sounded tired, but his eyes were full of life as he spoke. 

"Sure, no problem," Danny replied. So, this is gonna be one of your famous navy showers, that last what? Two or three minutes?" 

Steve gave him a wry grin in return, "You still remember that?" 

"Of course, I remember most of our conversations, especially, if they had some important intel in it like said shower. And, now, go." Danny made a shushing sound while he watched Steve disappear around the corner. 

The smile on his face faltered on his way into the kitchen. Though Steve was hiding it, he was not doing well. Danny cursed himself for not being there for his friend and for leaving him alone for such a long time. He should've come here earlier. 

For a few minutes, Steve stood under the shower, facing the spray of hot water with his eyes closed, until he turned around to let the pounding stream take out some of the aches from his strained muscles. Suddenly, he felt caught in a whirlwind of emotions. His tears, mingled with the water, ran down but washed away immediately. He put his back against the wet, tiled wall and glided down into a sitting position. There, he wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees. Steve hoped that the sobs that escaped his throat would go unheeded. 

He returned to the living room for about half an hour later, clean-shaven, wearing a black tee and a pair of jeans. The air was filled with the scent of tomatoes and Italian herbs. Danny had neatly set the table and was about to serve the meal. He was caught off guard and stopped midtrack as he discovered his friend watching him.  

"Hope you don't mind," Danny said, apologizing, "I just threw some things together. I considered it much better than some canned food or, god beware, one of your MREs." He put the plates on the table. 

Steve couldn't help but grin when he took the spoon in his hand. 

"What?" Danny wanted to know. 

"Well, MREs. What can I say? You know me too well." Then, Steve dug into the tomato soup. "Mm, this is quite delicious," he mused after he'd tasted it. 

Danny was well aware of Steve's red eyes. They stood out against the dark hair, which was still damp and stood in dark spikes, and the clean-shaven pale face. For a brief moment, Danny thought about mentioning it but decided against it. He didn't want to spoil the moment as Steve really enjoyed the meal and seemed happy. 

"After all this MRE food, your taste buds are so irritated that even a piece of coal would taste like honey bread," Danny quipped. 

Steve shook his head, grinning, and then retorted, "Shut up, you stupid little oaf."

**to be continued...**


	2. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i505bhkn8b)  
> 

Danny and Steve sat at the dinner table; both had a bottle of beer in their hand. It hadn't escaped Steve, that Danny did a virtual inventory of the room. And the longer his friend kept on with it, the bigger became the concerned look on his face. 

Steve put the bottle on the table, "You're quiet, buddy," he said hoarsely. 

Danny's head jerked in his direction, "Sorry, did you say something?" He wasn't mocking his friend. Danny had been distracted. He'd been busy counting the numerous bullet holes, although Steve had done a helluva job to cover them up. 

"I said, you're quiet," Steve repeated, "I hoped you would come here and give me some of your speeches." 

His friend huffed out a laugh, "One of my speeches? Are you fucking kidding me? After all that you've been through? No, can do. I still try to figure out how it is possible that you can sit here next to me. I mean look at this…this mess." 

Danny pointed at the opposite wall, the bottle of beer still in his hand, "It is practically Swiss Cheese. If I sneeze, it will come crumbling down. Don't get me wrong, I mean, you did a fantastic job. And next time my house is due for renovation, I'll give you a call, seriously." 

Steve took a swig from his bottle, and the cold liquid hissed angrily down his throat. 

"It was bad, Danny, really bad." Steve's voice was barely audible. 

Danny scrunched up his nose and nodded. "Figured." Again, he pointed at the bullet holes that were covered with filler. "Either this or you have a serious termite issue." 

A brief smile crossed Steve's face but was gone the next moment. "If it weren't for me, Joe would be sitting here with us, enjoying his beer." 

"Don't, Steven, don't go there," Danny said. 

"No, buddy. Don't talk me out of it. It was all my fault. Joe and Cole died on my watch when they were executing my plan." Steve emptied the bottle in one big gulp. 

Danny made another attempt: "Steven, listen, they knew what they were doing, and they knew the risks. It's not like they were following some orders. They were there to protect your life. If it weren't for them, you wouldn't be here." 

"And I let them down," Steve added and leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his thighs, clasped his hands together, and stared at the floor. An awkward silence fell upon the room. 

Danny went over to Steve and squatted in front of him. 

"Steven, please look at me," Danny softly said. Slowly, Steve lifted his head to meet Danny's eyes. 

"I know that you're in a very dark place right now. But I beg you to come out of this hole. We need you. I need you. Joe's death is not your fault, and neither is Cole's. The only ones to blame are Hassan and Greer." Danny spoke in a calm voice although his heart was in his throat. 

He was so mad about the misery these two had caused, and even madder about the fact that they were still out there and not behind bars or worse. He really wanted to smash something, but he knew he had to keep it together. 

"Remember when I was in this hole after Matty's death? You reached out to me again and again. And I was a real jerk. I mean, I yelled at you, I didn't take your calls, at one point I even took you by your collar…and what did you do? You laughed at me. Yeah, you did. Do you remember this moment? It was when I realized that the pain wouldn't go away. Never. It would be a part of me for the rest of my life, and the only thing I could do was to learn to deal with it." Danny paused. 

Steve clasped his hand a little tighter to stop them from shaking. 

Danny made another attempt, "I know you take this more than personal, and all the things that you feel might bring out the worst in you…" 

Steve's Adam's apple jumped up and down. Danny's words pulled him out of his lethargy. Their eyes locked. 

He sat up straight without losing eye contact with his friend. "I know what you are going to say. I should keep my feelings in check and do my job." 

Danny shook his head. "Just the opposite. Use those feelings, make them personal, thrive on them positively because if you don't, all those emotions will eat away at you like cancer. Remember? I've been there." He patted the outside of Steve’s thigh and said, "How about you show me around? I came a long way; I’d like to see more than these four walls. And…if it is okay with you; I'd like to pay Joe and Cole my respect.” 

He got up and was about to turn on his heel when Steve grabbed his wrist and said, “Of course, I’m okay with it, buddy. It would mean a lot to me. And thanks for getting my mind out of the gutter. I appreciate it.” 

“I already told you, that’s what family is for. Did you think you could hole up in here forever and it wouldn’t bother anyone? I threatened Lou, Adam, and the kids to lock them up. Otherwise, I would’ve arrived with the whole Brady Bunch in tow. However, I thought that might have been too much for you to digest after… you know.” 

Danny dropped his gaze to the floor. 

During their walk, they brought each other up to speed but also talked about old times and what was lying ahead for them. Finally, they arrived at Ponderosa Pine right on time to watch the sunset. Immediately, Steve was haunted by the images of Joe dying in his arms, only, this time it was different. It did no longer feel like a nightmare compared to all the other days he’d been here. Today's visit was meant as a farewell and a closure. 

Before the last ray of sunshine vanished, Danny side glanced at Steve and saw a single tear rolling down his friend’s cheek. 

“You’re okay?” he carefully asked. 

“Yeah, buddy. I am. After all, I have to go on with my life,” Steve replied in a choked voice. And then, touching the tip of his index finger to his temple in a salute, he added, “Goodbye, Joe. Goodbye, Cole. It was an honor to serve with you guys.” 

Later that night, while Steve was lying next to him on the floor, wrapped up in his sleeping bag and softly snoring, Danny lay wide awake in the foldaway bed. He’d tucked one hand behind his head and was staring at the ceiling. Out here in this secluded area, far away from every street, the night was pitch black. Danny knew that he and Steve were safe, now that Hassan believed that his goons had succeeded in killing off each member of the SEAL Team that had taken his father's life about 16 years ago. Nonetheless, his senses were on high alert, and his mind was racing miles ahead. He and Joe White hadn't often been on the same page. And Danny still doubted some of the old man's decisions, especially concerning Steve's mother, Doris. However, Joe had survived wars in foreign countries and was killed by a bullet during a cowardly attack on American soil. Wasn't that ironic? The man deserved better. 

This ranch here in Montana could've been the perfect place to spend his remaining years, maybe together with Zahra, the doctor lady he'd met in Nairobi. Steve had told Danny about this woman during their walk this afternoon. Steve had also buried Joe together with his dreams underneath the pine, along with another former member of their SEAL team, Cole. Danny hadn't known him because Steve had never mentioned this name, let alone this mission as, of course, this kind of stuff was classified. With time, Danny had gotten used to this term and stopped asking. Only, in this case, some intel would've been more than helpful. However, when Steve let his team in on the details, it was too late. Hassan's assassins were already on the loose and doing their job. 

Danny shuddered and pulled the woolen blanket up to his chin. Nope, Steve McGarrett wasn't invincible or indestructible. How much more could he take until he reached his breaking point? Danny didn't want to sound like a broken record, so he'd asked Steve only twice if he was okay and, of course, the answer had been yes. Danny couldn't even tell if Steve ever fully recovered from the sensory deprivation torture Khan had put him through a few months ago. He was another one of Greer's friends who was supposed to put an end to his friend's life. This woman held a severe grudge against Steve. 

Danny started thinking that, maybe, there was more to it. What had Steve done to her that she wanted him dead at all costs? 

The buzzing of the phone startled him so much that he almost rolled out of the foldaway bed. 

It was Tani who was apologetic, "Sorry for the late-night call. Did I wake you?" 

"No, I was just starting to count bullet holes," Danny muttered. 

"What?" 

"Instead of sheep; the walls in this house are peppered with it," Danny explained. 

"Are you okay?" Tani asked, confused. 

"No... yes," Danny snapped just to excuse himself in the next moment. "Sorry, it's been a long day and even a longer night. What happened that can't wait?" 

"Harley and Harry joined forces and found out about Hassan's current location," Tany said proudly. 

"Harry? As in Harry Langford?" Now, it was Danny's turn to be confused.

"Yes, her Majesty's secret weapon. The Brit with the wit," Tani raved about the retired MI-6 agent. 

"What is he doing in all this?" Danny wondered. 

"Obviously, Steve contacted him a few weeks ago while he was on a shopping trip in Cannes. He exchanged Gucci, Versace, and Ferragamo immediately with his Bond gadgets, and now, here we are." 

Tani paused to clear her throat before she kept on, "Those were his words, not mine." 

"Yeah, I thought so," Danny stated dryly. "What's next?" 

"Wade Gutches is already working the Bama angle because it looks like some of us are going on a trip to Laos," Tani said. 

Danny almost dropped his phone, "What? What the hell is Hassan doing in Laos?!" 

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," Tani blurted out, "I'll get back to you with the details later. Bye." 

"Yeah, bye," Danny said, and then, the line went dead. 

He'd gone to the kitchen with the phone, not to wake up Steve. Carefully, he peaked around the corner to check on his friend. He was still asleep. There was no doubt that the past few weeks had taken its toll on him. However, Danny's presence and their talks gave Steve enough fortitude to stop the void inside of him from growing and let him fall into a deep, dreamless sleep eventually.

_**to be continued...** _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i506bq81v8)   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you'll find a small flashback to episode 8.06. And if things might sound familiar, I used parts of the original text from episode 9.11.

Tani had called again around 8:00 a.m. to tell Danny that he and Steve have to drive to Mission Field in Livingston to meet with Junior, Wade, Adam, and Lucia Bama, Frank Bama's daughter. 

“You're okay, Danny?” Steve asked because his friend hadn’t talked much since they left the ranch, and that had been more than two hours ago. 

“I'm doing great, Steve. Don't worry. It’s the endless hours we get to spend in a flying coffin that makes my stomach churn. You know, Laos isn’t exactly around the corner and Frank . . . Wait. Didn’t Tani mention a Lucia Bama? Who is she?” 

“Frank’s daughter,” Steve replied. “I had no idea that she followed in her dad’s footsteps because from what I know she is studying law.” 

“From flying freak to flying lawyer. Not sure if I should consider this progress…” Danny mused. 

When the guys arrived at the airfield, they were awaited by Junior, Adam, Wade, and Lucia. After a brief welcoming and some banter, they finished loading the aircraft, a US Military C-17, and unlike Frank Bama’s usual flying rust buckets, this one was in excellent condition. 

They took their seats in the plane, and once they reached cruising altitude, they gathered around a metal table to bring each other up to speed. Though everybody tried to do their best to hide it, Steve couldn't escape noticing his friends' worried looks. He knew he could try to reassure them over and over and over again that he was fine, but they knew as well as he did that he was not. 

“Harry and Harley are already in Vientiane. They are still trying to figure out where Hassan lives as there are four possible locations so far,” Junior explained. 

“So, we have HH7 now working the case -- nice,” Danny chimed in. 

Junior smirked but kept on talking, “Harley is working together with some of his hacker friends as all four locations are highly secured and equipped with the latest in surveillance technology. Meanwhile, Harry is using his contacts in Vientiane. It seems some people there owe him some favors.”  

Steve shook his head, smiling, “Why am I not surprised at all?” 

When the briefing was over, Steve decided to look after Lucia. 

The cockpit of the C-17 was huge. “May I?” he asked her while pointing at the co-pilot's seat. 

“Of course, Commander, make yourself comfortable. Let me know if you want to fly this baby,” she said and gave him a smile in return. 

“Thanks, but no thanks, not today. I’m sure we're in good hands, and please, do me a favor. Drop the Commander. I’m Steve.” 

“Copy that,” Lucia replied and, in a much less cheerful tone, she added, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Com… Steve. I didn’t know him personally, but dad had a lot of stories to tell about him and also about you and some of the rescue missions he did for you guys in the past. It’s been rough times. He also sends you his condolences and is sorry to miss out on this one.” 

Steve cleared his throat before he said, “Thank you, Lucia. It means a lot and yes, what happened to your old man? Don’t get me wrong; you handle this baby as good as your dad but…” 

“Dad suffered a stroke,” she replied, “but don’t worry. It was a mild one. He’s currently on rehab and driving the staff crazy with his crankiness and sometimes harsh jokes. Well, you know him.” 

“I’m sorry Lucia. I didn’t know about it. He didn’t…” 

“Dad didn’t want to be a burden. He even tried to keep it from me, but the signs were obvious, and when I confronted him, he blamed it on the alcohol and too much weed. Nonsense. It took me a day to get him to the hospital.” Lucia tried to swallow the lump in her throat. 

“Geez, even if he is sick, he can be a real pain in the ass. If you need any help or whatever, don’t hesitate to give me a call,” Steve said in a soft voice. “Promise?” 

“Promise, Steve, and thank you. So far, he is in good hands. The only thing that weighs heavily on him is that his pilot license was revoked. And, even if he recovers from the stroke, it is not certain that he will get it back.” Lucia made a slight turn to the left. 

“From what I see, you have inherited Frank’s ‘flying genes.’ But weren’t you studying law?” Steve wanted to know. 

“Yep, I did for about two years, and then I found out that that was not what I envisioned for my future. When I got my pilot license, I spent more days at the airfield than in school. You’re right, Steve; it's in my genes, next to some other unpleasantries. But that is another story,” she responded with a throaty laugh. 

In the large cabin, Wade had stepped away from the table and waved Danny over. 

“You guys have been pretty busy over the past few hours. Wonder what HH7 will be up to when we arrive,” Danny quipped, but his smile faltered when he saw the worried look on Wade’s face. 

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked. 

Wade shook his head. “Nothing in particular. I’m only wondering how Steve is holding up. I mean Joe was as much a father to him like his real dad. This loss must have hit him hard. Except for the stony impression on his face and the few words he spoke … it’s hard to tell. You know, I’m glad you took care of him, Danny, and brought him here.” 

The older man put a heavy hand on Danny’s shoulder, and Danny patted it in return, saying, “I wished I would’ve been there earlier. I mean, Joe died in his arms and then he buried him together with Clay, digging their graves with his own hands. I don’t want to imagine any of that.” Danny swallowed while tears stung his eyes. 

Wade squeezed Danny’s shoulder. “Steve wanted to be alone for some time. And you did what a good friend does: you were there for him and listened to him. And when you thought it was time, you came all the way from Hawaii to bring him home. You're more than a friend to Steve. You're his soulmate. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, Danny.” 

“Thanks, Wade, thanks.” Danny turned his face away from the retired SEAL and pretended to check on their baggage. Suddenly, he realized that he felt emotionally and physically drained. The past few weeks had also taken their toll on him; only, he hadn't talked about the many sleepless nights he'd been up worried sick. A conversation he had with Steve from about a year ago came to his mind: 

 _Steve, “What's with micromanaging my health all of a sudden? What's going on?”_

_Danny, “Okay, because I'm scared that you're not taking this seriously.”_

_Steve, “Why would you say that?”_

_Danny, “When you told me that you had radiation poisoning, it was you were very casual. It was like, uh, you were telling me you had, uh, eczema or something like that. And it was the same thing with the liver. I give you my liver; you don't follow any of the post-op instructions. You take nothing seriously. That's why.”_

_Steve, “You're exaggerating, all right? You're overexaggerating.”_

_Danny, “I'm not overexaggerating. I am genuinely scared for your health, okay? I lay up at night; I'm sick about it. I can’t sleep. I almost called that therapist to try to get another session.”_

_Steve, “Why wouldn’t you say something to me?”_

_Danny, “What am I gonna say to you? That...that I’m stressed about the fact that you are not taking this thing seriously about your own health? I mean, I-I’m not gonna put that on you. It’s my own thing. Wh-What am I gonna say to you?”_

_Steve, “I’m scared, too, man. I know I don’t...I-I don't show it, but deep down, I’m scared. You think I don’t want to live a long life? You think I don’t want to maybe get married someday? Have my own kids? I love your kids, alright. Charlie, Gracie -- I want to watch them grow up. I want to see Joanie grow up. I’ll tell you what I'm not gonna do. I’m not gonna obsess over something that might happen, and I can’t let you do that, either. I’m serious about this. And there’s one other thing. Please, whatever she said to you, don’t-don’t do that. Don’t change. I love you, man, the way you are. I need it to stay that way.”_  
[](http://mycoven.net/index.php?seite=display&img=i508bjsd6a)

 

Danny jumped almost out of his skin, as someone had tapped his shoulder. He turned around to face Junior and Adam. The looks on their faces weren't very promising, either. But, Adam's question surprised Danny, “You're okay, Danny? Junior and I noticed that you've gone very quiet? Anything we can do?”   

Danny couldn't help but bark out a laugh, “Seriously, guys. I'm fine. The only thing we should probably care about is how we track down Hassan.”   

“You're fine, really?” Junior got into it one more time, “because you don't look like it.”   

“Thanks for telling me I look like shit; I know it. But, this is not about me, okay? Now, go back to whatever you were doing and leave me the hell alone…” Danny made shushing sounds as he ushered Junior and Adam away.  

At this point, Steve returned from his brief cockpit visit and watched the awkward scenario.  

Grinning from one ear to the other, he went over to Danny. As soon as Steve opened his mouth, Danny waved him off, “I swear if you're going to ask me how I'm doing, I'll kick your sorry ass out of this plane, WITHOUT a parachute.”   

Steve held his hands up in defense, “Whoa, calm down, buddy. I'm not gonna ask you anything. Except, are you all right?”  

Danny’s head turned crimson, and Steve imagined that it wouldn’t be long until steam came out of his best friend’s ears. He broke out in laughter and was out of Danny’s reach within seconds.  

“You’re an idiot, and you know it,” Danny hollered out while he watched Steve getting engaged in a brief conversation with Wade.  

“Hey, Gutch! Thank you for coming along,” Steve said.  

“You already told me that, son,” Wade replied.  

“Just one more thing. I just, uh . . . You gonna be okay with all this?” Steve stammered; he felt guilty for calling Wade who'd already retired some time ago.  

“Guess we'll find out, won't we?” Wade replied and added in a confident voice, “Tell you one thing, what we’re doing -- going after the bastard that killed Joe, putting him in the ground --that's about the only thing that could’ve pulled me out of retirement.”  

“Alright, then . . .” Steve replied half whispering.  

Lucia’s voice came over the speaker phone, “Ladies, I’d suggest you go back to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We are awaiting some turbulence in a few. I don’t want to hear any complaints that I didn’t warn you that this is going to be a bumpy ride.”  

“Copy that,” the guys answered unison.  

The weather in Laos was as expected -- hot and humid. While Wade, Junior, Adam, and Lucia went straight to the safe house that Harry had secured them in the suburbs of Vientiane, Steve and Danny met with Harry and Harley in a bar downtown to get info about the latest developments.  

Due to the dim lighting inside, they had to look around until they found their friends sitting in the back in a niche. Briefly, they shook each other’s hands and took a seat.  

When Danny started to study the cocktail menu, Harry quipped, “A word of warning. The cocktails here are terrible.”  

Danny put the menu aside immediately and said, “Okay. Then Steve and I will have a beer.”  

“Got any other local tips?” Steve chimed in.  

Harry nodded. “As a matter of fact, I have. Thanks to our keyboard warrior and his friends, we identified Hassan’s contact in the city. Then I figured that if I have such gifted guys working for us, it won’t do any harm if we could get us some money. So, Harley sent a friend into the club, and he won $150,000 at craps, while I, taking a break from the observation, met a lovely local woman called Vatsana. But this is none of your business.” His lips curled into a smile.  

“You guys have been busy,” Danny deadpanned and took a sip from the beer. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected it to be.  

“Um, what’d you learn about our friend?” Steve asked.  

Now it was Harley’s turn to speak. “Like you already know, my contacts to the intel community reach deep. I pulled a few favors, and we were able to trace an $8 million wire that Hassan made a week ago to Vientiane’s Mandarin Club.”  

“It’s a, uh, exclusive, members-only establishment,” Harry added, “and they have a high roller game room. It attracts some big hitters.”  

“So, what are you thinking, that transfer was, uh, some kind of money-laundering play?” Steve wanted to know.  

Harry nodded. “That’s right, and during our man’s winning streak, he was able to make a few friends. With their help, we worked out exactly how Hassan is accessing his cash. For the past few evenings, Hassan's runner, a chap named Dimitri, comes in and makes a large withdrawal of chips from the cashier.”  

“About a million at a time,” Harley went on. "He then spends about an hour at the table, always losing around one hundred grand.”  

“One hundred grand is ten percent. It’s got to be the vi, right? The club’s fee for washing the money,” Danny stated dryly.  

Again, Harry nodded, took a swig from his beer, and said, “That was my thinking. And once he has his money, he doesn’t hang around. Always a rolling-car pickup, decoy vehicles. A smart operation. Probably run by someone who used to be Agency.”  

“We assume he’s been doing this every night since the money wire. Tonight could be our last night to track him. My friend conveniently overheard him tell the dealer last night that he would be at the club again tonight,” Harley added.  

“Isn’t it cute how these two finish each other's sentences?” Danny gave them a broad grin.  

“Well, let’s say I’ve learned from the best,” Harry retorted and raised his bottle as if to toast him.  

“Touché!” Danny said and winked at Harry.  

“And your friend is absolutely sure about tonight?” Steve behaved like he hadn’t heard the banter between his friend and the former MI6 agent.  

“Positive,” Harley confirmed.  

If Steve didn’t know better, he’d say that Harley was watching all of them closely, only the hacker was blind. However, his behavior didn’t give it away. Some people might have considered him eccentric for wearing shades inside a dimly lit bar. On the way out, Harley was on Harry’s heels. They acted in perfect symbiosis. And therefore, none of the other guests realized that one of the men who had just left the bar was blind.  

At the car, Harley stopped at the driver’s side and asked, “Keys?”  

Danny’s face got ashen, “Don’t tell me he’s going to drive.”  

“No worries. I have the keys. I took them from him after we arrived here earlier,” Harry said, desperately trying to bite back his laughter.  

However, when Danny started glaring daggers at him, he couldn’t hold back any longer.  

“You’re such a bloody bastard,” Danny retorted in the best English accent he could muster.  

Steve just stood there, rolling his eyes but smiling. It wasn’t wrong to let off some steam before they went after Joe’s murderer.

**_to be continued..._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for taking your time and reading. Kudos and comments are highly appreciated.


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